


adventureland

by theheartsclub



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, adventureland au, dont get scared by the angst theyre meant for each other, idk how to tag things like this without spoiling, im gonna add tags as i post new chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheartsclub/pseuds/theheartsclub
Summary: Eddie shrugs as he takes a step backwards towards his booth. “It’s a shame you’re gonna be gone. To think I was just getting used to having you here.” He punctuates the statement with a wink before disappearing back past the pathway.He may be keeping his job for now, but Richie knows he’s fucked.or; richie tozier works at a theme park for the summer and meeting eddie kaspbrak there is possibly the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> this is an au formed from the 2009 movie adventureland! it follows the general plot line pretty closely (at least as close as you can get with completely different characters) so obviously i don't own any of the ideas from the actual movie!!  
> separately, if you haven't seen the movie then i highly recommend it, but if you don't want the fic spoiled i would wait until after you read this.  
> also my tumblr is valentinerichie if u wanna talk to me! any and all commentary on my writing makes my day.  
> enjoy!! :)

Richie is leaning up against a cabinet stacked high with books in a house that he could not recall the owner of. He couldn’t care less. He’s got the beginning of a smirk growing on his expression, and he’s hunched over ever so slightly as he leans in to speak to the girl stood in front of him. The thick rimmed glasses sliding off the tip of his nose alter the cool bearing he was attempting to present. He pushes them back into place. “This party blows severely. Head out with me now and I’ll show you a real good time. You have my word,” he says with the looks of someone speaking in a hushed tone despite his being anything but.

She looks uneasy, but the words that leave her are planned. “Richie,” she says, the lack of sympathy in her eyes striking almost a frightening tone. “We’re done. I’m gonna go now. On my own.”

Richie is surprised. Not that this hasn’t happened before, but he’s a little high, and he really thought something about this might be different. She was different. Apparently not by much. “Hannah,” he says. He never would have let her hear the break in his voice if he was sober.

It’s with a shake of her head that she steps back. “Don’t, okay? Just don’t.”

\----

“She’s a bitch.”

Richie sighs, slapping a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Mikey. I can always count on you to defend my honor.” He wasn’t confident that what Mike said was right. That’s just what you say when your buddy gets dumped, and usually Richie tricks himself into believing it. This time though, this time he might not be able to convince even himself. This time it might be on him.

“College will be better,” Mike reassures him, hooking his arm around Richie’s middle. When Richie’s high he begins to resemble one of those blow up figures set up outside of car dealerships, so he falls right into the support.

“Will it?”

“Fuck yeah. You’re a catch, Rich. We live in a small town. It’s not your fault that the pond you got stuck in is all dried up. I mean you’re gonna be in Los Angeles. City of angels, man. You know who the angel is?” Mike hums. He isn’t exactly sober either.

Richie laughs. “Me!”

Mike nods, a laugh following. “You! College Richie is gonna kill the fucking game.”

He curls out from Mike’s grasp, outstretching his hand. “Sir, to what do I owe the pleasure of this dance?”

Mike follows him out to the flood of people in the center of the room. Richie tries to forget that he just got dumped.

\----

“What the fuck?”

“Language, Richie,” his father warns. Richie doesn’t flinch.

“It’s out of our control,” Maggie says with a lack of empathy. The tone feels like salt in an open wound. Was it something about his face? Is that why people kept talking to him like this?

They’re sat at the dinner table and Richie’s food is growing cold in front of him. Not that it’s of any importance at the moment. He never was a fan of meatloaf anyway.

He crosses his arms over his chest. He looks like an eight year old, he knows it, but he doesn’t think he can worry about that right now. “You’re sabotaging me.”

Went’s face is stone cold, a look from his father that Richie is far from unfamiliar with. “I’m getting transfered. It’s a lower paying position with a bright opportunity. I know we promised that we would pay your tuition, but we just can’t handle it anymore. We can’t take on an expense like that.”

“So this is what you do? You just drop me like that?” Richie is in disbelief. His parents have never really been there for him, but they took the necessary steps. They went through the motions. This was one of them. It was supposed to be, at least. “What the fuck do you expect me to do about this?”

No one said anything about his foul language this time.

Maggie takes a deep breath, but she doesn’t speak. Richie doesn’t expect her to. She never fucking does.

“You’re going to need to find a job for the summer,” Went states. 

Richie has had a job before. He got hired at the Aladdin last school year, but that didn’t last more than a month. Apparently, sneaking your friends into free movies isn’t in the employee handbook. He can’t see why not. 

Putting up some sort of protest might have seemed like a good idea at the beginning of this conversation, but now it was just pointless. He was gonna have to spend his summer working. If he could find a job, that is. Derry and it’s surrounding towns weren’t exactly overflowing with employment opportunities. Unless you were especially interested in bad diners or pharmaceuticals. 

\----

Turns out finding a summer job with decent pay was far from as easy as it looked. He’s spent days calling and driving around town to hand out resumes to whoever will take them. Not that his resume is anything impressive. His high school degree, barely any experience, and a knack for voices didn’t exactly catch the employer’s eye.

He’s sprawled out on the grass of Ben’s backyard one late afternoon once he finished his rounds for that day. All he can think about is that Ben has a job. Ben’s going to college with the money from that job and whatever his dad had left for him. Richie has never been more jealous of Ben than in that moment.

Not that he wants a dead parent per say, but it would help his current situation a great deal.

“I applied fucking everywhere, Haystack. I’m telling you, no one is hiring me. They’re homophobic! I could report them all.”

“Did you include your sexuality in your application?” Ben asks, nudging his sneaker against Richie’s. 

Richie nudges right back. “Not explicitly, no. But they know.”

Ben huffs out a laugh. “I’m not sure that’s how that works, Rich.”

“Whatever. I just wish someone would tell me who’s dick I have to suck to get a job in this fucking shithole of a town.”

“You could come work with me. You haven’t applied there yet, right? They’re hiring.”

“Is that an invitation to suck your dick?”

“Definitely not,” he laughs. “But I’m serious. You should apply.”

Richie blinks. “At Adventureland?”

Ben nods. “Yup. Bobby’s been telling us to ask around. I’m sure they’d take you on right away.”

“Over my dead fucking body am I gonna work at Adventureland.” He pauses, “No offense, by the way.”

“None taken,” Ben says with a wave of his hand.

\----

“Well, you see, I’m not exactly what you would call a connoisseur of theme park duties but I think I could-”

Paulette cuts him off. “Games job? Bobby, this is Richie. He’s applying for a games job.”

“Games? I  really think I’m more of a rides guy myself. I mean, you can’t stick all this behind a booth, can you?” Richie interjects. Ben works in rides, and as far as he knows this place works on a social hierarchy. Starting at the bottom isn’t exactly what he wants.

Bobby looks him up and down once before returning to the application. “No, you’re definitely a games guy.”

Richie inhales as to speak again, but he catches his tongue. He’s already scraping the bottom of the barrel as far as employment goes; not getting this job means sudden death. People in positions of power don’t typically like it when he runs his mouth. Even when those people have a mustache like Bobby’s. Richie kind of thinks he rocks it, though.

“Alright,” Bobby says as he spins around in his chair to face Richie. “Rules. This is important so make sure those ears of yours are nice and open.”

Richie taps his right ear, then the left, nodding. “All ready, captain.”

“Okay. No free food, no free turns, no free upgrades, no free turns for your friends, no free prizes. Just, everyone has to pay for everything. Got it?”

Richie nods.

“Now the most important rule in games: no one ever wins a giant-ass panda.”

“Got it. No free stuff. No giant-ass panda,” Richie repeats. This job is already sounding like smooth sailing. The t-shirt he receives could be in a bit better taste, but he isn’t about to complain. He did just get hired after all.

\----

“Alright new kid, suit up.”

A curly haired boy approaches Richie, tossing an apron in his direction without even sparing him more than a glance as he walks past. Somehow Richie knows he’s meant to follow wherever he’s going. He’s neat looking, too put together for someone working at this park. 

Richie catches a glimpse of his name tag as he walks past.  _ Stan.  _

“Stan the man,” he hums. “You’re gonna show me around the kingdom, I assume?”

“Stan. That’s my name. And I’m gonna show you the park, yes.”

“You work in games too?”

Stan stops for a second. “That’s what my shirt says.”

Richie grins.

“All of them are shitty,” he says. They approach a wooden shelter, under it there are bottles set up in rows. “The games, I mean, but everything else here too. Here’s one of them. Essentially, it’s ring toss. They get the ring on one of the red bottles, they win a giant-ass panda.”

“Sounds like a worthy prize to me.”

Stan nods, picking up one of the rings. “It’s the best one in the park. Good thing no one can win it.” He drops the ring from directly above the bottle. It falls, but doesn’t catch the rim like it was meant to.

“It’s rigged,” Richie observes, and he’s fascinated.

Stan scoffs. “Better be. If someone wins a giant-ass panda on your watch you’re fucked. Just pack up and go because you’re fired. Like here, see?” They step into the next booth, and Stan hits the hat of a mannequin with force that should knock it off. It stays in place.

“They’re glued down.”

“You’re catching on.”

Richie’s never been more intrigued in his life. Well, maybe this and that time Sammy Kurtz told him he had a dirty magazine in his backpack in the fifth grade. Turns out it was just his mother’s subscription to Better Housekeeping, but one of the advertisements showed enough cleavage that most of his complaints faded away.

They pass through another booth; this one has a girl sat on the counter. She’s reading, but she looks up when she sees them pass through.

“Hey Beverly,” Stan greets, and he shows the first sign of a smile that Richie’s seen from him this whole time. 

“Stanley,” she mocks, tipping a hat that isn’t there. “You brought fresh meat?”

Stan looks as though he’s about to introduce the two, but Richie beats him to it. 

“Richie,” he says, “But you can call me anytime.” He winks and she laughs. That was a new reaction to his overused line, but he could grow comfortable with it.

“I’m Bev. You just joined, huh? Your life must be utter shit, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I’ll say, I have been better.”

Bev nods, patting his chest lightly. “It doesn’t get much better. But I’m sure Stan here is itching to get back to working his booth, so I bid you goodbye. Expect that call, Richie.”

Richie smiles, and before leaving he adds in a curtsey for dramatic effect. “Catch you, Bev.”

They’re stood underneath the hammered in basketball hoop when Richie tells Stan she’s nice. That brings a smile out of him again.

“Bev’s great,” Stan affirms. If there wasn’t something so incredibly gay about Stan’s whole entire being, Richie would think he might actually have a thing for her. He sticks with the assumption that they’re good friends instead.

Richie actually starts to feel a little bit better about being here for a moment. This place is a shithole, just like everything surrounding it, but the people are promising. He can crack Stan’s shell, he knows it. If his efforts are strong enough, he can own this place by next week. 

“Back to the grind now, is it?” Richie asks. It’s in a voice that he hasn’t quite perfected yet, so who’s to say what exactly it sounds like.

Stan wrinkles his nose. “If you’re that eager to get to work, then yes, I suppose it is. You’re right here. I hope you like horse racing.”

“Always been a dream of mine.”

“Then you’re in luck,” he laughs. “Knock yourself out. Not literally, though. I think it’s safe to say you’d be smart if you stayed far from the infirmary.”

“Why? Are the nurses hot? They’re gonna distract me from my work?”

Stan shakes his head, taking a step away with a wave of his hand. “Stay safe.”

\----

Call him crazy, but Richie is actually sort of having fun. He’s slumped over the edge of the booth, calling out the scores. It isn’t exactly summer vacation, but it’s entertaining, and he gets to be as loud as he wants. Seeing the way kids faces light up when they win is rewarding in itself, but he won’t be mentioning that to anyone.

\----

Manning the ring toss is a bit more on the boring side. He doesn’t get to yell, and the kids aren’t as young. That might actually be a good thing, because no one actually ever wins this one, and he doesn’t think he can take the heartbreak of watching their failure when he knows the truth behind it. 

His boredom was reaching extreme levels, so when a man approaches him and strikes up a conversation, Richie jumps at the opportunity to do anything other than this. Unfortunately, the conversation is just as boring as the job.

“Dude, do you know how to get to the snack shack from here? I’m telling you, I must have circled this park six times, I can’t seem to find it.”

Richie should have caught on immediately, because really, it was a pretty stupid question. The snack shack was a pretty big building on the northern end of the park. It was hard to miss. It’s his week day and he has no problem finding exactly where it is. “Sure, you just take a left down by the dunk tank. See? Right down that way. Then you continue that way until you-”

“He won! He’s a winner! Looks like we’ve got a prize coming our way over here.”

Richie turns around to see a man holding his son. Rather, he’s pulling his son back from holding him over the counter. Even if he hadn’t seen it from the corner of his line of vision, it was pretty easy to see what happened.

“Actually,” Richie corrects. “No one won anything at all. You cheated. I saw you lift him over the bottles. You didn’t even actually throw it.”

The man turns angry quickly. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying you cheated. No panda for you. Capiche?”

“You better watch your attitude, faggot.”

Richie raises an eyebrow. He’s feeling wrongly invincible behind the counter. “You’re not getting the panda, man. Even if you were before, you definitely aren’t now.”

“You’re gonna do that? You’re gonna keep it from a kid? Just give the kid a fucking prize for winning the game.”

“The kid cheat-”

It’s then that a boy rushes in from the booth beside his. He grabs the panda off of it’s hook, handing it to the man with a smile. “Here’s your panda. All good?” There isn’t anything but a grunt in response, but he leaves.

“What the fuck?” Richie says, but his tone quickly changes when he catches his first proper look at the boy’s face. Holy shit. There was really no other way to put it. He was beautiful. Standing in front of him was the most beautiful boy in the whole entire world, and Richie still didn’t know how to control his mouth. “You can’t give those out. Why’d you do that?”

Beautiful boy puts a hand on his hip and Richie is suddenly acutely aware of his breathing patterns. “He won, so I gave him a prize,” he says.

Richie’s staring at the way the sun coming through the trees shines right on the pink of his cheeks. He has freckles. Richie wants to count them. He wants to kiss them. The sudden realization that he’s about to lose the job he only just got settles in and brings him back to Earth. Easily one of his least favorite places. “You- you’re not supposed to give those away. And he didn’t even win, he cheated. That’s the giant-ass panda, you can’t give it out.”

“Is it worth getting knifed over?”

Richie’s face crinkles in confusion for a moment. “Huh?”

“That guy, he had a knife. Technically, I just saved you. You should be thanking me.”

“Oh,” he says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. When his palms started sweating he had no idea. “Thank you, uh- Thank you?”

“Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile makes Richie’s heart turn to a puddle. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Sure thing, Richie,” he replies, and Richie has never heard his name sound so good. “And don’t worry. I’ll tell Bobby you lost the panda at knifepoint.”

“How’d you-”

“Name tag,” he says, pointing at the card pinned to Richie’s shirt that has his name printed on. Richie feels kind of like a huge idiot now. Great first impression.

Richie nods. “Ah. Forgot about that.” What kind of idiot forgets they’ve got a name tag on? Him, apparently. “So, I’m really not gonna lose my job?”

Eddie shrugs as he takes a step backwards towards his booth. “It’s a shame you’re gonna be gone. To think I was just getting used to having you here.” He punctuates the statement with a wink before disappearing back past the pathway.

He may be keeping his job for now, but Richie knows he’s fucked.


	2. chapter two

“If you choke and die doing this just know that I have every right to laugh.”

Richie holds a hand up to Stan’s face. “Watch, watch,” he laughs, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle before tipping it upside down and into his mouth. He closes his eyes as he begins to chug, not seeing Eddie come up from behind him. “What the fuck are you guys doing over here?” he asks. Richie doubles over as he chokes on the water.

They’re stood outside the entrance of the park as the rest of the employees begin to filter out. It’s past dark now, only the light of the front sign and some flickering street lights illuminating them. The nightfall provides a cool breeze; a relief from standing in the summer heat all day.

“Richie here claims that he can drink a whole bottle of water in under fifteen seconds,” Stan explains, amused.

Eddie nods, sliding a hand into his front pocket. “Oh, so he’s an idiot?” he quips.

“I can!” Richie chokes out. He’s still hunched over, water dripping from his nose, which can really form a dent in his credibility. He straightens himself up, wipes the remaining mixture of water and spit from his chin, and smiles. “I’m not an idiot. I’m talented.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “A fair trade, I suppose. Although, I have heard similar arguments from people who’ve died from running with scissors.”

Richie laughs. Maybe a little more than the joke required. He can’t help it, though. Eddie’s cute and funny apparently; it’s a killer combo.

He’s in the midst of formulating his own comeback when Bev interrupts. “You guys going to Kyle’s show tonight?” When she catches the confusion coming over Richie’s expression she gasps. “You don’t know?”

Richie shakes his head.

“Kyle’s the maintenance guy. He’s got a band,” Stan explains. He doesn’t seem particularly impressed. Everyone else does, though.

“He’s shit at maintaining anything in the park, but he’s killer at guitar. I heard he played with Mike McCready,” Sarah says. Richie has never even heard her speak until now.

“He did,” Bev agrees. “He told me everything last year. I remember.”

Eddie hasn’t said a word. Richie didn’t really notice until now how he had sort of drawn himself into the background.

“You going, Eds?” Richie asks. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I’ve gotta head out, actually.” He looks uneasy.

“I’m going home too,” Ben says, placing a hand on Richie’s shoulder. Eddie looks relieved. “My mom’s gonna be here in a minute, you want a ride? Eddie, you too.”

Richie shakes his head. “Your offer is tres magnifique! An extremely difficult one to pass up, although, mon amour, I have my own car here.” The Frenchman voice is one he’s been working on for a while. It hasn’t shown much improvement over time.

Ben smiles anyway. “Alright. Eddie?”

“You live kind of out of the way,” Richie says, quick to interject. “I could give you a lift, Eddie. You know, if you wanted.” He’s able to sneak in a nudge to Ben’s side to get the message across.

“I would love to accept,” Eddie replies as he glances at his watch. “But I actually have a meeting with my cult in about fifteen minutes. Can’t run late; Tuesday is animal sacrifice day. You know how it is.”

“I can drop you off. Maybe I’ll join.”

“We’re pretty exclusive. I’ll let you drop me off, though. Even if I might have to kill you after,” Eddie says, but Richie can spot a hint of a smile forming.

“Sounds splendid!” he exclaims. The British guy should really have a name by now. Not that he’s too good at that one either. “Come join me in my automobile, will you? Benjamin, it’s been a pleasure, old chap! I bid you goodnight.”

Ben laughs, waving to the both of them as they start for the parking lot. Eddie laughs too. Richie can feel his heart burning.

\----

Once they’re in the car Richie pushes the tape into the player, only for music to come blaring out of the speakers.

Eddie’s hands fly to his ears. “Jesus fuck!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Richie apologises, rushedly. He’s quick to turn the music down. “Sometimes it does that. Old car.” He really hopes Eddie can’t see the color forming on his cheeks through the darkness.

“Well, if your plot was to make me go deaf, you’ve nearly succeeded.”

Richie laughs, turning the keys in the ignition. The car makes a troubled sound a few times before starting.

“Your car is a piece of shit,” Eddie says, but it’s merely an observation.

Richie, oddly enough, can’t find it in him to be offended. “That’s one way to put it. I prefer to go with the term old companion.”

“That makes no sense at all.”

He shrugs. “I got it for two hundred bucks last summer. Some guy said it was haunted. He was really desperate to get rid of it, and I’ve never had a personal problem with ghosts. My friend Mike helped me fix it up, and now it’s just a miracle that it starts every morning.”

“Is it?”

“Is it what?”

“Haunted,” Eddie elaborates. “You said the guy who sold it to you thought it was haunted.”

Richie laughs. “That guy was batshit crazy. I could have gotten it for even less, but I felt bad trying to take advantage of him that much. I haven’t had anything particularly spooky happen yet, but I’m kind of looking forward to the day it happens. Maybe I’ll make it on T.V.”

“I’ve never heard of someone wishing for the paranormal. Usually that’s something to avoid.”

“I dunno, I think it’s cool. I’ve never had something interesting like that happen to me before. A ghost seems like a cool way to die.”

Eddie looks at Richie in a way that he can feel without even having to look at him. It’s kind of funny, so Richie laughs. Eddie laughs too.

“That’s my house right there,” he says once they turn a corner, pointing to the quaint red house sitting down the block. Richie wonders what it must be like inside. If Eddie keeps his room exceptionally neat or he allows it to grow messy at times. Just by looking at him, neat seems like a safe assumption.

The car comes to a stop at the curb, but Eddie doesn’t move to get out. Riche doesn’t question it, he just thanks his lucky stars. 

Eddie shifts in his seat. It isn’t because he’s uncomfortable. He turns to face Richie. “What brings you to Adventureland? Surely it can’t be out of your own free will, or the corndogs.”

Richie lets out a laugh. “You’re funny, Eds.” He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “My parents fucked me over. Typically a recurring theme. I’m meant to go to UCLA in the fall. They were promising to pay for it, but they decided to make like a sleazy dude and pull out last minute. No protection either. Some shit about my dads job or whatever, but still. I had to find a job, and this is a job. Hopefully it gets me at least through the first semester. They aren’t exactly offering a full ride.”

“Eddie’s my name,” he says. “Not Eds.”

“You’ve never heard of a nickname?”

“Eddie is a nickname. For Edward. You can’t have a nickname for a nickname.”

Richie laughs. “See what I mean? You’re funny, Eds.”

Eddie sighs. “I’m sorry about that. About your folks. I’m going that way too, that’s why I’m here.”

“To California?”

“UCLA,” Eddie replies, a small smile forming. “My mom is kind of, well.” He turns to look out the window, seeing his mother peeking out from behind a curtain in the house, watching them. “Overprotective. She doesn’t want me going, which means there’s no way in hell she’s funding it. I think I’ve got to go, though, so I had to find a way there on my own.”

Richie nods, looking over Eddie’s shoulder to follow his gaze out the window. He tries to ignore the way his stomach has been flipping ever since Eddie confirmed that they were going to the same school. Maybe he believes in fate now. “That her?”

“Mhm.” Eddie turns back around to face Richie. “Sorry. She gets like that. I actually think I should head out now.”

“Oh.” His disappointed tone wasn’t meant to come out. “That’s cool, I should get back home too.”

Eddie offers a smile. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Richie nods. He balances a cigarette between his lips, flicking his lighter a few times before the flame actually ignites. “See you tomorrow, Eds. Sleep well. Dream of me.” Eddie probably looks cute while he sleeps, Richie thinks, but he shoves the thought away when he realizes serial killers probably share similar speculations.

\----

Richie’s alone on his lunch break, sat at a table with his headphones securely covering his ears. He’s holding a sandwich with one hand, drumming on the wooden table with the other. Ben was meant to join him, but he had to use his to run an errand for his mother despite the fight that Richie had put up.

(“Can’t you just use one of your bathroom breaks for it?”

“A bathroom break?” Ben asks. “A bathroom break to drive all the way across town, then to my house, then back here?”

Richie groans. “You’re really gonna leave me?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to entertain yourself. You’re good at that.”

“Benny.” He’s taken to whining now. “I hate being alone. You know that.”

“You’ll survive.”)

Richie’s fighting his way through the forty-five minutes when a boy he hasn’t seen before now walks past where he’s sat. He hasn’t got on a games or rides uniform like everyone else, but he definitely works there. He’s got this perfectly messy dark curly hair framing his face, his light skin providing the contrast between the two. His features are sharp, making him look interesting, but not unattractive. It kind of makes Richie irritated that he’s so intrigued. There’s only one person that could fit that description.

“Kyle!”

The boy turns around, backtracking to meet Richie. “Hey.” His voice is uninterested.

“You’re Kyle.”

“I am.”

Richie offers a smile. It gets returned, but in a cool, collected sort of fashion. One that makes Richie especially aware of his bulky glasses and teeth that are a little too big for his mouth. Now that he’s thinking about it, his hair is probably a mess too. “You’ve got a band, I hear.”

Kyle nods. “Yeah, I do. Why? You looking to play?”

Richie shakes his head, lifting up a hand. “No, no. Not exactly my sort of thing, amigo.” He got a guitar for Christmas a couple years ago. He tried learning to play for about two days before it proved to be too challenging for his attention span. That guitar lives in the corner of his room now and has for every day following those two. “Where do you play?”

“Here and there,” Kyle answers. “Shitty places around town. Some a bit farther. We’re heading out to New York in the fall, though. We have some promising gigs lined up there.”

Richie looks at him with raised eyebrows. He’s impressed. “New York, huh? The big apple!”

Kyle nods.

“Guys!” Bev rushes up to the two, slamming her hands on the table. She’s got a grin that makes Richie smile as well.

“Bev!” he exclaims.

“Party tomorrow. A friend of mine’s parents are out for the weekend. You’re both invited.”

\----

Richie is barely even high on the couch surrounded by people he doesn’t know. And Bev. The party doesn’t quite suck yet, but he’s bored. He told Ben that they should have waited a bit longer before leaving, but he didn’t listen. Something about him knowing that Bev was leaving at that time, so apparently that meant that they should too.

“I’m bored,” Richie announces, dropping his head to Bev’s shoulder.

She pets his hair. “You want something to drink?”

Richie shakes his head. He wants to know where Eddie is. He knows he’s coming, mainly because he pestered him about it for most of yesterday, but he hasn’t shown yet. Stan isn’t there either, which means they’re probably riding together, which means Richie is double as bored.

It’s an agonizing amount of time before the two arrive, but when they to Richie is ecstatic. “Now the party has arrived!” he exclaims.

\----

They all end up huddled in the kitchen, and it’s a whole lot more fun than it was before. They’re passing around a joint (Richie makes a mental note that Eddie always skips his turn), and they’re laughing, and Eddie is sort of pressed up against Richie’s side in a way that makes his cheeks burn hot just thinking about it. 

He sort of wishes Mike were here, he would probably get on really well with these guys. Maybe he’ll invite him along next time.

“You know one time,” Ben says. “A kid lost his head on one of the roller coasters. I’m not sure which one, but I know it was a horrible bloody mess. They made everyone who witnessed it swear to secrecy.”

“Bullshit,” Stan calls. “There’s no way they could cover something like that up. It would never work. Besides, if people were sworn to secrecy, then how do you know all about this, huh?”

“I heard Paulette talking about it at the beginning of the summer.”

Eddie shakes his head, pinching the tip of his nose. Richie thinks it’s adorable. “Ben, you liar. That shit would be all over the news, and Paulette wouldn’t be openly ranting about it in the middle of the park.”

“I’d believe it,” Bev chimes in. Ben beams at this response. “Those rides are barely functional death traps. I’m surprised none of us have seen any traumatizing accidents occur at our time there. It’s only a number of days before the Tilt-A-Whirl takes someone’s life.”

Ben crosses his arms over his chest. “Told you.”

“Whatever you say,” Stan retorts. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Richie can’t help but intervene. “You want to see that? Kind of fucked up, don’t you think?”

Stan’s face crinkles in disgust. “Jesus! No, I don’t.”

Richie lets out a laugh.

“I think I’m gonna go get some air,” Eddie says. “Anyone want to come?” It’s quiet enough that Richie seems to be the only one to hear over the loud music. He follows.

His expression lights up as soon as they step outside. “There’s a  _ pool _ ?”

Eddie nods. “Yup. There it is.”

“You think we can go in it?”

“Definitely not?”

Richie pouts. “Why not?”

“Because,” Eddie answers. He’s doing the cute thing where he puts his hand on his hip again.

“This isn’t our house. You can’t just go around using things that aren’t yours just because you want to.”

“But it’s a party, Eds. That’s what people do.”

“Fine,” Eddie huffs. “Do what you want.”

Richie grins, wide. He’s already peeling his shirt off. 

Eddie may not be completely aware of it, but he’s watching.

“Enjoying the show?” Richie asks with a wink, and Eddie quickly glances away. Even in the dimly lit backyard of a stranger, the way Eddie’s cheeks are glowing pink is visible. It’s adorable.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. 

Richie just smiles. He drops his jeans in the pile of his discarded clothing before running and jumping into the pool. “Come in! The water’s fine.” He shakes the water out of his hair, which makes him sort of resemble a wet dog, but he isn’t paying too much attention to his own appearance when Eddie’s standing directly above him. He looks like he’s considering.

“I think I’ll pass on that one.”

Richie disappears underwater for a moment, resurfacing at the edge of the pool. He smiles up at Eddie. His glasses are sitting in the pile of his clothes, so he can’t see too well at all, but he knows that Eddie looks beautiful. “Come on. For me?”

“You look like a cat that got dropped into the bathtub.” That makes Richie howl in laughter.

Eddie is silent for a moment. He looks at the ground, to Richie, and then once behind him. The party is visible through the glass door, but no one seems to be interested in the outdoors. He wearily lifts his shirt from the bottom. Richie claps.

Soon, Eddie is standing in nothing but his underwear, and Richie feels much like his head just got shoved underwater. This isn’t how he imagined seeing him like this, but he isn’t complaining. “You coming in or what?”

“Don’t rush me!” Eddie says. He’s not moving.

“I’ll hold your hand,” Richie offers. It isn’t even a joke. For once, he’s completely sincere. 

This seems to unwind Eddie a bit. He nods. “Yeah? Okay.”

It seems rather stupid, holding someone’s hand while they get into a pool, but there’s a bit of intimacy to it that feels like something they both crave. Richie takes both of Eddie’s hands in his own as he slowly lowers himself into the water. They share the same shy smile.

“See? Not so bad,” Richie says.

“I know. I’m not a baby,” Eddie says, defensive.

Richie laughs. Eddie makes Richie laugh a lot. “I know, sugar. You sure are cute like one, though.”

Eddie groans, and without warning he slips his hands out from Richie’s grip, shoving him underwater. He comes up sputtering for a moment, but he’s able to catch Eddie off guard, lifting him up off his feet. Eddie lets out a high-pitched scream, grabbing Richie’s shoulders for support. “Asshole!”

Richie is grinning ear to ear, his laughter filling the air.

There comes a point where the laughter stops, and they’re just there. Together. Richie is holding Eddie in his arms, and there’s something about the closeness that makes his body feel hot all over. He has a feeling Eddie is feeling it too.

They’re close. Richie starts to think they might kiss, but his body feels frozen in place. He’s never had someone make him feel paralyzed like this.

Suddenly, Eddie wiggles free from the hold and over to the edge of the pool. “I think I’m gonna get a drink. You want anything?”

Richie shakes his head. He can move again. “I’m okay.” He smiles. “I’ll see you in there in a minute.”

Eddie nods. Richie tries to not watch him get dressed.

\----

When Richie finds Eddie inside, he’s alone.

“Spaghetti man,” he says. Eddie’s hair looks cute when it’s wet. It falls in curls over his forehead instead of it’s usual gelled down style.

Eddie turns around. He has a beer in hand, but he’s barely made a dent in it. “Huh?”

“Eddie spaghetti,” Richie explains.

Eddie sighs. “What did I say about the nicknames?”

“That you love them, and you want me to think of even more.”

Eddie shakes his head, but Richie catches a glimpse of a smile.

“Not what I said.” His voice is hushed as he steps closer.

Richie’s breath hitches in his throat. “No, I really think it is.”

“Where were you guys?” Stan asks. Richie nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“Jesus, Stan,” he breathes. “We were in the pool.”

“I can see that. Anyway, we were looking for you.”

Eddie steps out between the two. “We should go see what everyone else is up to. Come on.”

Richie nods, but his heart feels heavy in his chest as he follows out into the living room. There’s people all over, but the couch has been consumed with the ones he knows.

“Benji,” he hums, squeezing himself between Ben and Bev. “Missed me?”

“Not anymore,” Ben says, pushing Richie’s head to the side. “You’re dripping. Ever heard of a towel?”

“No towels when yer on the sea!” The pirate is one of his best voices. Richie thinks so, anyway. Bev seems to agree when she laughs.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles, looking down at his watch. Richie looks up, riddled with concern. “I’ve uh, gotta go meet a friend. See you guys on Wednesday?”

Richie nods, giving a small wave. “See you later, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie doesn’t bother arguing against the nickname. He just returns the wave, pats Stan on the head, and turns to leave. It makes Richie feel uneasy, but he pushes it away. He knows it’s none of his business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i luv u all for reading <3  
> remember my tumblr is valentinerichie!


	3. chapter three

“Bill’s back!”

Richie is sat on the counter of Stan’s booth, carding through the mail he shoved into his bag on the way out the door that morning. He isn’t religious, but he’s definitely praying that one of the scholarships he applied to late had the heart to throw him a bone. None of them have so far. The shouts tear his eyes from the letters. The contents weren’t promising anyway.

“Richie, Stan, Bill’s back!” Maya shouts in passing. She’s gone before he can respond. 

He turns to face Stan, who quite frankly looks like he’s just seen John Lennon rise from the grave.

“Who’s Bill?” he asks, waving a hand in Stan’s face.

Stan points past him. “ _ That’s  _ Bill.”

Richie’s gaze follows where Stan is pointing, leading to see a boy approaching closer. He’s attractive, it can be seen even from this distance, but Richie isn’t exactly swept off of his feet. It’s needless to say that he’s got someone else on his mind.

“What’s his deal?”

Stan looks almost offended. “What’s his  _ deal _ ? It’s Bill Denbrough. He’s like, I dunno, a walking miracle. I mean, just look at him.”

Richie nods as he glances back and forth between the two. Bill works in rides, of course. His shirt is cut into a crop, and really it should look stupid, but he makes it work. He really makes it work.

“He’s got a stutter, but that ass of his really makes up for it.”

Richie bursts out in laughter. He nearly falls off of the counter, gripping onto the sides. He manages to get himself together by the time Stan hits him in the ribs. “Hey! What th-“

“He’s coming over here.” Stan looks pale.

“You know he’s not like, Superman or anything. You can breathe.”

Stan doesn’t respond. Richie would be concerned, but he turns around to see Bill approaching, and he’s found his explanation.

“Hey, Stan,” Bill greets. He smiles in a way that makes Richie feel good, but not for himself. He’s looking only at Stan. “Ruh-Richie?”

Richie grins. “Richie Tozier, at your service!”

Bill laughs. “Pleasure to me-meet you.”

“You as well, kind sir.”

“I didn’t think you’d be coming back.” Stan sounds almost out of breath. Richie’s trying really hard not to laugh. 

Bill shrugs. “I r-ran out of m-muh-money.”

Stan smiles. “We’re glad to have you back.”

“The p-pleasure is all m-mine,” Bill says with a wave, stepping off into the distance. Stan returns it in a dreamy nature.

Finally, Richie doubles over in laughter.

Stan scowls, punching Richie in the shoulder. “Shut up!”

“Oh, Bill,” Richie mocks, his grin wide. “I’m  _ so glad  _ you’re back. What can I possibly do for you?”

Stan crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t make fun of you for liking Eddie.”

Richie’s grin falters. He can already feel the pink rising to his cheeks. “You know?” He wasn’t exactly hiding it, but he didn’t know it was that obvious.

“Of course I know. It’s pretty obvious, Richie. You look at him like he’s handing you a million bucks every time he speaks to you.”

“He might as well be.”

“I saw you put your elbow fully in ketchup while he was talking to you at lunch, and you didn’t even notice.”

“You can’t expect everyone to be as hyper-aware as you are, Stan The Man Uris,” Richie says.

Stan shrugs. “Guess not.”

Richie spots Eddie walking a few booths down. He absolutely lights up. “Well, duty calls. Catch you later.” With that, he’s running off. Stan doesn’t get a chance to reply.

\----

“Eds! Eddie!” Richie finally catches up. Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he leans a bit closer.

“Richie,” Eddie responds, smiling. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You find me to be a pleasure?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he laughs lightly. “You wanted my attention?”

“I made you a tape,” he says, a bit rushed. He’s embarrassed suddenly; something he didn’t equate for when playing this out in his head. “I noticed you liked what I was playing in the car a few weeks ago. I thought that maybe you would enjoy some more like that. So yeah, that’s what this is.” He pulls the cassette from his pocket, holding it out in Eddie’s direction.

Eddie slows at first, and then finally stops, taking the tape from Richie. “You made me this? Like, just for me?”

Richie can feel the heat on his face again. It’s spreading to his whole body. He nods. “Just for you.”

Eddie smiles, and it might just be one of the biggest Richie has seen from him so far. “Thank you. Really, thank you. This is incredible.” Richie wants to kiss him. He won’t. He doesn’t.

He returns the smile, but it’s far from something out of social obligation. “It wasn’t really a problem.”

They’re silent for a moment. Richie’s gaze is on the floor, and Eddie’s is on Richie. He’s thinking of something else to say when he feels warmth pressed against him and arms winding around his body. Eddie is hugging him. It makes Richie feel like someone has set off fireworks in his chest, but it’s far from painful. He holds him close.

Once they finally separate, Richie is the first one to speak. “Do you wanna do something tonight? Like, get ice cream? Milkshakes?”

Eddie nods. “I would love that.” He’s still smiling. He hasn’t really stopped, which reminds Richie that somehow, he’s making all the right choices at the moment.

“See you tonight then, Eddie Spaghetti.”

\----

It isn’t even a date. Well, not really. It definitely could be if they wanted. Like thirty years from now, when they’re telling their children about their first date, this is what they would recall. That’s assuming it all works out. Otherwise, it could just be two friends going out for ice cream together. Richie went to the movies with Stan last week, and that wasn’t a date. Not looking at this as a date takes some of the pressure off. Still, Richie can barely look at Eddie for the rest of the day. That’s really something new for him.

But when they’re in the parking lot once everything is closed up, finally alone together again, the stress seems to melt away. Eddie seems to have that effect on him. Richie is leaning against the side of his car, smoking a cigarette when Eddie approaches.

“You know that shit gives you cancer, right?” he says, and it’s in the most Eddie way possible. Richie cracks a smile.

“You crack me up, Eds. You really do.”

Eddie shakes his head. He does that a lot. Richie likes that he can now pick up on things that Eddie does frequently.

“Get in the car, cutie. Time for me to whisk you away,” Richie says, pulling his door open.

Eddie slips into the car, dusting some lint off of his jeans. “We’re going for ice cream.”

“Like I said, whisking you away.”

Eddie huffs out a small laugh before pulling the tape Richie gave him earlier out of his pocket. He takes out what’s already in the player, replacing it. The music starts as soon as the car does. Originally, Richie had intended for Eddie to listen to this alone. It was only for a moment that he is disappointed before it sinks in that this is so much more enjoyable if they listen together.

The car ride is silent for the most part. It isn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. They just sit and enjoy the music and each other’s presence. Richie doesn’t want to be the one to turn it off when they reach their destination.

They’ve found the only ice cream place in town that isn’t closed by ten pm, and Richie isn’t disappointed. It’s one of his favorites.

“Desert island flavor,” Richie says, the sound of the bell attached to the door chiming as they walk in. “What is it?”

“English, Richie.” Eddie’s peering through the glass guarding the ice cream. He looks focused, and it’s an adorable look on him.

“You’re on a desert island for the rest of your life. You can only have one flavor for the rest of your life. What is it?” he elaborates.

Eddie tears his gaze from the flavors to look back at Richie. He’s smiling. “You’re an interesting one.” He turns back around. “It’s strawberry.” That’s what he orders. Richie thinks it’s funny that he spent so long looking at the flavors just to order his favorite. It’s another thing he knows to remember about Eddie. It makes him happy.

“Is that your desert island flavor?” Eddie asks as they sit down.

Richie grins. “How’d you know?”

Eddie shrugs. “I just know you, I guess.” The thought of Eddie knowing things about him should scare Richie. It doesn’t. It makes him feel almost safe.

“Rocky Road. You can’t get much better,” he hums, taking a lick. He watches Eddie while he does it. It’s supposed to be seductive, but something’s telling him that Eddie didn’t get the message. Ice cream isn’t exactly the most sultry of foods.

Eddie giggles. “You have some on your nose.”

“Shut up,” Richie murmurs, but he still blushes as he wipes it off with a napkin. “I was going for a new look.”

“I don’t think it was working.”

Richie arches an eyebrow. “Really?”

Eddie nods. “Really.”

“Interesting.” Richie reaches across the table, pushing Eddie’s ice cream into his nose. “I was thinking it would look better on you anyway. And look at that! It does!”

Eddie groans, wiping the ice cream off of his face. Richie still got a glimpse of Eddie with his pink nose, so he was quite satisfied. “I should have known you were gonna do that.”

“Your fault then, I guess.”

Eddie laughs at that, and Richie really isn’t sure why. Most people would be annoyed. Eddie isn’t most people, though. Richie laughs too.

“How are you enjoying work?” Eddie asks.

Richie shakes his head. “I don’t wanna talk about work. Tell me about you. Work is boring. You’re not boring.”

Eddie looks down at the table, bashful. He’s got a small smile, which makes Richie think people don’t ask about him much. That’s a strong assumption, but it’s already upset him briefly. Eddie looks back up again. There’s color dusting his cheeks that wasn’t there before. “What about me?” he asks.

Richie shrugs, slumping down in his seat a bit. “Whatever you want. Your favorite movie.”

“Dead Poets Society.”

“I like that.” He nods, smiling. “I’ve never seen it, but I like that you have an answer. I hate when people don’t have answers to that kind of stuff. Like, I don’t care if it’s fucking Food of the Gods two. Just give me an answer.”

Eddie laughs. “You don’t like Food of the Gods?”

“Never saw it, but I don’t like rats. Plus, it doesn’t feel like a movie that desperately needed a sequel. Sequels are an art. Like Star Wars, you could keep that shit going forever and it would never get old. It’s timeless.”

“What’s your favorite then?”

“Uh, I dunno.”

Eddie looks confused. Richie laughs. “I’m only kidding. It’s Back To The Future.”

“You look like someone who would like Back To The Future,” Eddie observes, catching a drip from his ice cream with his tongue. Richie is captivated.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

Eddie shrugs. “Good, I think.”

“You think?”

“Depends on the person,” he says. “For you, a good thing.”

Richie smiles, but his gaze lifts from Eddie for the first time that night after a moment. “Kyle!” he shouts. It’s too loud for the small place they’re in, but he’s never been too good at figuring out what’s appropriate for things like that. 

Kyle waves from the doorway, starting for their table. He’s got a girl with him, most likely his girlfriend. She looks comfortable with him like a girlfriend would. She’s pretty, but Richie isn’t surprised.

“Hey guys,” he says. Eddie gives a wave, but he doesn’t respond. He hasn’t looked up from the table. 

“This place is the gathering of the town, I guess,” Richie comments. He can’t put his finger on why the air feels thicker.

Kyle nods, his lips pursed together. “I like it here. They’re self owned. Anti-capitalist. I like putting my money there.”

Richie thinks that’s an odd comment, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Kyle’s a weird guy.

“Hell yeah!” he says instead. It’s a safe response to most things. Excluding things involving death of a relative or illness, he’s learned.

“I’ll catch you guys later?”

“Catch you.” Richie nods, giving a toothy grin. “Was that his girlfriend?” he asks Eddie, once they’ve passed a significant amount.

Eddie nods. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“He didn’t introduce her.”

“He’s not happy,” Eddie says. “They’ve been together for a while, so he’s sort of trapped. He doesn’t know how to end it.”

Richie nods. He doesn’t ask how Eddie knows that even though he’s wondering.

“Can we go?”

Richie’s caught a bit off guard, but he nods. ‘Yes. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.” He smiles, hoping Eddie might share it. There’s something that really dragged his mood down. Thankfully, as he stands, he does.

\----

Once they’re back in the car, the tape plays again. They’re silent, and it’s a bit less comfortable than before, but the music eases the mood. Richie really still can’t figure out what went wrong so suddenly, but he doesn’t bring it up.

“Can we go somewhere?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Richie answers with a small smile. He doesn’t want Eddie to go yet. “Where did you wanna go?”

“Anywhere. Take me wherever you wanna go.”

Richie has somewhere in mind.

\----

The car may be old and barely functioning at times, but the way it works through the brush of the forest is impressive. Eddie’s asked where they’re going at least five times by now, but Richie won't tell. 

“Are you gonna kill me? Is that why you’re taking me to a dark forest at night?” Eddie asks, but there’s no panic in his voice. Richie knows this because he’s seen a lot of panicked Eddie by now. 

“No,” Richie says, laughing in the least maniacal way he can manage. “Just wait. I promise you’ll like it.”

“That’s what serial killers say.”

“Maybe, but do I look like a serial killer?” 

Eddie looks Richie over once. Twice. Three times. He shakes his head. “Not really, no.” 

“See? Told you. You’re safe. No serial killing will be done by me. Not even any regular one-time killing.” That makes Eddie laugh.

When they park the car Richie is the first to step out. “Come on,” he says. “Nothing’s gonna get you out here. Promise.”

“You sound like you’re talking to a toddler,” Eddie says as he follows, standing very close behind Richie.

Richie shrugs. “Sometimes people need toddler talk. It’s a good method.”

Eddie makes an effort to respond, but Richie takes his hand and suddenly he can’t remember what to say. 

They walk almost to the edge, but not too close, to where Eddie’s confident that they have low to no chances of falling into the water.

“Will you tell me where we are now?” he asks. 

“My favorite place,” Richie replies with a smile. “I come here a lot. Sometimes alone. Sometimes with my friends. It’s a good spot. Not a lot of people come here.”

Eddie nods, looking around as he takes in his surroundings. It’s pretty dark, but the moonlight reflecting off the water provides enough light for them to see each other. It’s all they need.

They’re silent, and it takes Richie a moment to realize that they’ve turned to face each other.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, and the words just kind of slip out. It was only a matter of time. He’s been thinking it since the day they met.

Eddie smiles. It’s that beautiful, shy smile that Richie’s only ever seen a few times. It’s rare that Eddie lets his guard down, he’s learned, but this is one of those few lucky times. Richie soaks it in.

It’s when Eddie lifts his gaze from the ground that he presses closer to Richie. Their chests are flush together and both of their hands are intertwined, just like they were that night in the pool. Except this time, it happens.

Eddie has to lean upwards, pushing himself up on his toes, but Richie meets him in the middle. It’s a purposeful kiss, one that’s been waiting to happen for quite some time now. They let it remain reckless for a while, but Eddie’s the one to slow the kiss a bit. It’s not a bad thing; he focuses it. Richie is wary when he slides his tongue into Eddie’s mouth, but Eddie responds with enthusiasm. He tastes like strawberry ice cream, and Richie doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it.

They aren’t holding hands anymore. Eddie’s hands are in Richie’s hair and Richie’s thumb is brushing over Eddie’s cheek. He can feel the heat in his skin.

_ You’re perfect,  _ Richie thinks.  _ You’re everything I need.  _ He knows it’s the kiss. He knows that the feeling of Eddie’s fingers against his scalp is making him fucking crazy, but he doesn’t push it away like he always has. This time he feels it full force, and it feels good. It’s never felt like this before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for reading!!  
> pls leave kudos and comments if u enjoyed!  
> my tumblr is valentinerichie, u can come talk to me there <3  
> (yes im gonna say this every chapter)


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